


all this devotion

by Chiomi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alpha Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Identity Reveal, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Trust Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27948302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiomi/pseuds/Chiomi
Summary: Ladybug's heat hits at the worst possible time, and she seeks relief where Chat tells her she can find it: with Adrien Agreste.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 8
Kudos: 448





	all this devotion

**Author's Note:**

> I made the consent as explicit and enthusiastic as I could, but this is still a heat fic.
> 
> Guess what brings back the writing mojo on a month-stalled WIP like nothing else? If you guessed 'dissertation literature review due in less than 24 hours with 0 progress made,' you win!
> 
> Your prize is porn.

Her heat was close enough that her mom had called her in to school, so Marinette was settling in with a hot water bottle and the suppressants that would knock out both her and her heat when her phone went off with the Ladyblog alert. Marinette groaned. Her joints ached with incipient heat, but she reached for her phone. Stupid akuma. Stupid Hawkmoth. She worried her lower lip between her teeth as she read the update.

“Tikki?” she asked, unsure.

Tikki flew in a circle, looking equally uncertain. “It’ll be suppressed while you’re in the suit, the way all other evidence of you being an omega is. But when your transformation wears off . . . “

That was the concern, wasn’t it? The later Marinette waited to take suppressants, the less effective they’d be. But she couldn’t take them now, because then she’d be falling asleep in the middle of battle. Suppressants meant she didn’t have to suffer through days of hypersensitivity and want the way she had when she’d had her first couple of pseudo-heats, but they meant she slept for hours while her body processed not having a heat after all. Taking them after, though, meant that she’d be farther into it, more revved, and they’d take longer to kick in and not be as effective. Marinette set her shoulders determinedly. “Well, then I’ll have to end this quickly.”

\--

It didn’t end quickly. The suit only suppressed external signs of heat, so Marinette was still getting slowly warmer and more distractible as she and Chat tried to fight the latest akuma. When she fumbled an easy throw, only Chat’s quick reflexes stopped her from taking a header into the pavement. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

His warmth and concern for her sent a shiver down her spine, damn her hormones. “Heat setting in,” she said tersely, frowning in the direction of the akuma.

“Oh,” he said. Then, “Oh,” again, but differently.

She braced herself against the pain of betrayal if he decided that this meant he was going to dismiss her as ‘just an omega.’ The magic of the suits worked on both of them, so she had no idea what his orientation was, but it would kill her if this meant he treated her differently, treated her like some little omega to be protected and sidelined.

“What do you need?”

Part of her relaxed, and part of her wanted to relax more, let him take care of things - but no, that was the heat talking. “To finish this and get home to my suppressant,” she said grimly.

“Okay,” he said, and leapt back to battle.

Eventually it ended, and the heat had spread from her joints to her bones, leaving her feeling untethered. Not quite aroused; they’d been too busy fighting for the purely physical reactions to have that impact yet, but it was only a matter of time. She’d never left it this late before. It was starting to feel almost good, and she stumbled half a step towards Chat after they bumped fists, just wanting more contact, more of her friend, more of her partner.

He looked at her and swallowed. “You need to go,” he said, quiet and urgent. “Get off the street, get home. Do you still have time for your suppressants?”

Marinette shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Will you . . .” He trailed off and looked away from her, then visibly straightened his shoulders and looked back. “Will you call me, if you need to?”

Was he an alpha, then? Was he her alpha? She swayed a little towards him, and he swallowed convulsively, his ears flat to his head. “I know - I know an alpha. Adrien Agreste? You’ve met him, right? I’ve heard it’s - if it’s easier. For you. With someone? He’d help you. With anything.”

Oh. Adrien. He smelled so nice. Like mint and leather, a little bit. Warmth pooled between her legs at the thought. But - “That’d be weird, though, right? Just to . . . ask.”

“No, I . . . if you need it. Anything you need. Even if it’s not - just tell me, Bugaboo? You should go, right now, but call, okay?” He looked so worried about her, and torn.

She kind of wanted to reach for him, reassure him. Just touch him. Ah, yeah. Definitely she should go. She hadn’t ever had a heat go so far. Suppressants meant that usually all she got was warm lassitudinous naps, with dreams that had gotten more erotic over the years. Her body would ache, but just with discomfort, not this emptiness that stabbed and demanded fulfillment. She shivered at the light breeze that touched her neck, then nodded jerkily. Ladybug couldn’t be out like this. She had to get home before her transformation wore off. It had been ages since an omega in heat was actually assaulted in the street, but still Marinette didn’t want to be out like this when people could  _ tell _ .

She fled home, leaving Chat Noir alone.

The trip took a little longer than usual, because she had to actually think about her throws. But she dropped to her roof with seconds to spare before her transformation dropped. She dropped to her knees as heat hit her like a hammer. Apparently the suit  _ had _ suppressed some of her internal experience. Her skin felt like it was on fire and too tight, and her breasts ached. She shuddered, once, and her panties were suddenly soaked. Oh god. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go through the time it took to get her suppressant, then take it, then wait for it to kick in, then feel like this for hours and hours with nothing to do about it. Hours would be better than two or three days it’d take to cycle out of it on her own, but . . .

She put her forehead down on the chair and tried to breathe and not whimper.

Tikki finished her cookie and came to hover just in the corner of Marinette’s vision. “Do you . . . need time alone?”

Marinette laughed, and it came out shaky and hysterical. Masturbating took the edge off, when she half woke up from a suppressant-induced nap, but right now it - this wasn’t a ramp up anymore. She was fully in heat. If she touched herself now, she’d keep going until her heat was over, desperate and wanting and only half-satisfied. She could do it. She knew she could. Omegas didn’t need alphas. It wasn’t necessary. She didn’t need an alpha’s scent heavy on her tongue. She could just take care of herself, the way thousands of other omegas did all the time. She didn’t need a knot stretching her wide and holding her close. “I need to call Chat.”

“Are you sure?”

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. This was probably a bad idea. And it was so awkward. She couldn’t just . . . show up, and throw herself at Adrien, begging for his knot like some omega in cheap porn. But she hurt. And she wanted. She wanted  _ so much _ . Chat had said it would be okay - and Chat would know, she could trust him. She always trusted him. “Yes,” she said unsteadily. She at least had to call. “Spots on.”

It was a relief, being back in the suit. It felt like it was holding her together. She could actually think through making the call.

“My lady?”

Just the sound of his voice, his trusted beloved voice, sent a shudder through her. Okay, the suit wasn’t toning stuff down that much. “Help. Please.”

His mouth fell open. “You mean -”

“You said Adrien - it’d be okay, right? You said? Are you sure?” The words were just tumbling out of her mouth, fast and unstoppable.

Something she couldn’t track flickered over his face. Then he said, “I’m sure. I’ll use the communicator to track you and be there to pick you up in just a couple minutes. Hold on.”

Part of her wanted to say no, she could go on her own, but she - she wasn’t okay. She nodded jerkily. She could already see in the background that Chat was running over rooftops. He wasn’t far away. And soon he was right there, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. She took it, and even through two layers of gloves the heat of another person was - compelling. He looked struck by it, struck by - oh. The scent of omega in heat was thick in the air, even on an open roof. No matter his orientation, it had to be a lot.

“Do you want - can you put an arm around my neck?” He sounded so tentative.

She did, then swayed so she was plastered against him. He felt so nice.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, we’re just gonna . . . go. I know you - I’ll get you to Adrien. You trust Adrien with this, right?”

“Trust you,” she said. She liked Adrien, she trusted him to be kind, but Chat - Chat was her partner, the one she trusted with her life. The one she trusted to make sure she was okay.

It felt like he shivered, but it was probably just him preparing to leap. He took them out over the city, towards the Agreste mansion. The air was cold against her skin, and it felt like a promise of relief.

When they got to the Agreste mansion, Chat slipped them in one of the open windows on Adrien’s room without even knocking or anything. That seemed super rude. “Shouldn’t we call?”

“I’ll just - I’ll go let him know you’re here. That we’re here. You just sit on the couch here, okay?” He set her down gently, so gently she almost didn’t notice him letting go of her. But then his warmth was getting farther away. She had to fight herself not to convulsively cling. She wanted Adrien. He was getting Adrien. It would be okay.

She rested the side of her face against the back of the couch. It was cool against her cheek. Even in the suit, everything was so hot now. It would be better if she was naked, wouldn’t it?

No. That was a bad thought. Identity. She had a secret identity. Plus that would be a weird way to say hi. Clothes on. Clothes had to stay on for a bit. For how long? Chat had been gone forever.

Adrien came into the room, and his hair glowed gold in the afternoon light.

“You’re so pretty,” Marinette said, instead of any of the things she’d had half-formed plans to say.

He smiled at her, surprised and amused. She smiled back, yearning. But she shouldn’t throw herself at him. They had to - talk? Something. Make sure this was okay, that everything was okay. Why wasn’t Chat here to do the words?

Adrien walked towards her slowly, carefully - almost warily. “Chat Noir said that you were having a hard time with your . . . with your heat, and that you would be okay with me, uh, helping you?”

Was ‘helping’ code for putting his hands on her, fucking her and knotting her tight and biting down and - a shiver ran through her, and a fresh flood of scent hit the room. “Please,” she said, the only word she could get past lips that tingled, now, with the desire to be kissed.

Adrien’s slow, careful steps faltered, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob. “We should . . . talk. About exactly what you want. I don’t want to - God, Ladybug. Can I touch you?”

“Please,” she said, fervent now, and came up to her knees on the couch. Should she go to him? Would he come to her?

He did, and reached tentatively to brush his fingers against her shoulder. Even through the suit, it was electric. She needed to be out of the suit. But her face. “I want all of you,” she said, swaying into his touch and towards his body. She angled her face towards his, hoping he’d come in, come closer, come kiss her. “But I don’t want you to know who I am.”

“Of course,” he said immediately, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen his eyes so green. His other hand came up to her other arm, and it was almost an embrace. Almost - not quite. Too much space was still between them. His hand drifted up and down her arm, trailing sparks. “Do you - do you just want something of mine? Or for me to hold you while you, uh, take care of yourself?” His cheeks were getting pink.

He was so pretty like this, looking like he was holding himself back. “Can I kiss you?”

“Ladybug,” he said, like some kind of prayer. “We should - while I can still think. I’ve had the birth control shot, but that’s just one part. We need to talk about - about expectations.”

“Well, if you kiss me now, then we’ll have kissed, and I can just hide my face in your pillow when I detransform and you fuck me,” she said. It seemed reasonable, right? It was practical. She was good at practical, and planning.

He groaned, low in his throat, and the scent of aroused alpha flooded her senses. Normally the smell was almost an affront, only bearable in small doses and when it wasn’t aimed her way. Like Axe. But this . . . he smelled of leather and mint and arousal that was aimed entirely at her, and she wanted to roll around in it. She put her hand on his waist, and, oh, the feel of him, even through her suit. She wanted the suit off, so she could feel everything. But first - she might never get to kiss Adrien again if she didn’t now. And oh, that was a terrible thought, wrapped up in more complications than she could deal with right now. She leaned into him, raising up on her knees so she wasn’t raising her mouth to his but meeting him at an equal height.

His lips brushed against hers tentatively, like he wasn’t quite sure of this. But she moved her lips against his, chasing sensation, and he responded to that, kissing her with more confidence. She brought her hand up to his face, wanting to touch, to adjust the angle, just to - she wanted more contact. She needed it. He closed his hands more firmly on her shoulders. It was so nice, being held, even as innocently as that.

She licked at his lower lip, then bit it. His hands tightened on her shoulders. It was like they were anchored there, like he was afraid to touch her anywhere else. Or didn’t want to? But she was Ladybug like this. It was supposed to be easier as Ladybug. She pulled back, and tried to search his eyes. But it was so hard to think. “Do you not want me? Is this -”

Adrien made a choked noise, and kissed her again, hard enough that he pressed her lips back against her teeth. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, exploring like he was thinking of conquest, and she melted into him, breasts pressing against his chest.

When they surfaced again, both of them were breathing hard, but his hands were still on her shoulders. “I want you, Ladybug,” he said. “I want you so much. I just don’t want you to be unhappy, after.”

Oh. Oh, she understood. That was okay, then. Marinette leaned in to nuzzle the line of his jaw. He smelled so good. “You’re trying to be a good alpha, trying to take care of me. But you could take care of me by making me come instead of worrying about later. Please?”

“Fuck,” he said, and then his hands were moving: one to the back of her neck, one down her back to press her closer to him. His hands weren’t huge, exactly; they were elegant, in proportion, calluses from fencing buffed down. But they didn’t need to be huge to be overwhelming, and they were bigger than hers, and longer. Her neck went lax and liquid in his hand, so he was supporting her whole head when he next swooped in to plunder her mouth. It was somehow better this time, pressed against him and slightly bowed back. She tangled both hands in his hair and used her tongue to feel the edge of his teeth. 

This time, when their mouths parted, she told him, “I should detransform now.”

“Mm,” he said, then blinked and took half a step back. “Right. If you want to . . . get on the bed.”

She got to her feet, and her knees nearly buckled. He steadied her, and that was almost worse; all she wanted was to be closer, to have him inside her, but she couldn’t, not yet. Instead, she straightened and walked to his bed. Alone: he just watched her.

She lay down on it and put her face in his pillow. She could smell him here; smell hair product and sleepy scent. It was good: a nice smell. She hesitated a moment. This would be probably the last time she could think clearly for a while, clinging to what clarity Tikki could lend her. Was this a bad idea? Deep inside, part of her insisted that no, this was right. She couldn’t tell if it was her heart or her heat. Oh, well. She was here now. Might as well take the leap. “Spots off,” she mumbled into the pillowcase.

The world fragmented into desperate desire. Marinette moaned into the pillow - so good, alpha all over, her alpha, she could just bite down and it was fresh over her tongue - and rolled her hips, desperate for the pressure she could get against her pubic mound. Tikki was flying away, somewhere, a redder dot in the reddish haze of everything. Her hands fisted in the coverlet, trying to keep her together, keep her grounded, keep her from floating away. Her knuckles hurt, but her everything hurt, so it didn’t matter. Why did everything hurt so much? It wasn’t supposed to - 

Adrien was coming towards her, hands already outstretched and soothing noises dropping from his mouth, as though an alpha could be soothing when he was so far away, not touching her. “God, Ladybug, that came on so fast, I didn’t expect it to hit so hard. Fuck, your smell, you smell like everything, here, let me -”

And then his hand was on the bare strip of skin at her waist, and they both made shocked noises. It was like lightning, a focus for all the electricity coursing through her body. Everything coalesced, and Marinette whimpered.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, it’ll be okay,” Adrien was saying frantically, voice quiet and rushed. The mattress dipped beneath him as he knelt over and behind her, not pressed against her, but at least finally  _ there _ . “Here, just raise your hips a little.”

That broke her contact with the bed, but she did it anyway, soothed to be following the directions of an alpha, her alpha. He’d make it better. And he slipped his hand right where she needed it, sliding carefully under pants and panties to touch where she was wet. She jolted at the touch, at the way her whole being seemed focused on his hand, but then he was using his other hand on her hip to steady her, his hand mostly over her pants, only his thumb and one finger touching bare skin at all. The lightning of sensation there, though, faded in the face of the conflagration where he was stroking her, fingertips gliding easily over sensitive skin that was absolutely drenched with wanting.

His fingertip brushed over her clit, seemingly by accident. She bucked - towards his hand? Back towards the impression and the promise of his form behind her? She didn’t even know: touch had translated into movement too swiftly for there to be any intervening thoughts. Adrien’s hand on her hip slid further onto her bare skin, and he leaned in closer over her, a promise of relief against her back. He leaned his forehead against her back, between her shoulder blades. So close to her neck. “Ladybug,” he said, and his voice was hoarse. He moved a finger over her clit again, this time deliberately, and she twitched again. 

Everything was so much and not enough all at once. He was so close but out of reach. “Please,” she said, and it was nearly a sob.

He circled his fingers frantically, and it wasn’t enough, wasn’t the right angle. But heat had strung her tight over the past several hours, and she was with him, finally, the way she’d thought of when she’d touched herself (even if not quite, not really) and finally he was touching her, and alpha scent was rising in her nose to match her own. So it took only a few moments of his hand down her pants to bring her off. She let out a low moan at the sheer relief of it.

But heat was unforgiving, and she could feel it closing in like a tempest. “Quick, while I can - just. Quick. Turn away, take your clothes off while I strip.”

“Right,” Adrien said, sounding like he was agreeing for the sake of it. It took him a moment, but then, blessedly, he did move.

She stripped off her pants as fast as possible without actually getting up from the bed, ignoring her socks as irrelevant. They wouldn’t get in the way of anything important. She kicked her pants down off the end of the bed and threw her shirt and bra after. Briefly, she considered keeping her shirt, wrapping it around her head? But no, that was just . . . that was more ridiculous than the rest of this. She took her hair down, though. Just two quick tugs to get her pigtails out, a snap to store the hair ties on her wrist. She raked her fingers through her hair to loose it from where it had been held in place, and it fell in a messy curtain around her face. There. That was enough. That had to be enough. She faceplanted again in Adrien’s pillow rather than risk even looking in his direction. There might be some kind of way to make a pose that hid her face sexy, but it was beyond her. Okay. Naked, face concealed. “Come back?”

Her voice came out threadier and more uncertain than she expected. How did people live with this? Twice a year, out of their minds with need. How did omegas who wanted families even bear it? Marinette was tempted to declare that if the timing for her next heat was this bad, she’d just let the akuma rampage until she woke up.

Then Adrien’s hand was on her skin, palm sweeping up her back, and she shuddered, all thoughts of the horror of heat swept away by the sensuous pleasure of skin to skin contact. “I’ve thought about this,” Adrien said. “You’re so beautiful. I wanted to take my time -”

She cut him off with an involuntary noise of protest. She just wanted him _ in _ her. Anything she might want outside of this moment was subsumed in what she needed right now.

He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, feather-light. “I wouldn’t do that to you right now. The whole idea was to make this less tortuous, right?”

“Yes,” she said. The tone made it an instruction.

Adrien’s hands trailed to her waist. “Up on your knees?”

Her calf trailed against his as she got into position, and she loved the feel of him. His hands shifted from her hips to her ass, and his breath wasn’t quite steady. Her face was still in the pillow, ass high in the air, and she’d feel silly except that she could feel his eyes on her where she was dampening her own thighs, feel the air on her exposed folds, smell his arousal rising in the air to match hers. He wanted her.

And still, he hesitated. “Don’t need foreplay,” she said, impatient. She was dying, couldn’t he see that? “Need your cock.”

He groaned, and then he was there, finally, pressing against her. He slid into her slowly, as if he was worried about her, as if she weren’t an omega in heat who’d already come once, as if she could feel anything but relief at finally, finally being filled. She moaned and stretched her spine like a cat, pressing herself back against him. His hips pressed to hers, and he said, “Ladybug,” in a punched out tone.

She couldn’t keep talking, though. Everything she’d been yearning for the last few hours, everything that she’d been aching for, was unfurling low in her belly. Marinette rocked forward, and then Adrien caught on, got with it, started thrusting in counterpoint to the rhythm that stemmed straight from some ancient portion of Marinette’s brain with no input from her conscious mind or movements.

It didn’t take long for his thrusts to start to rub a little more at the end of his stroke, for his entry to feel a little more dramatic; his knot was forming. It made her mouth water and a cry spill from her lips. This was what she’d wanted, this was why she’d needed an alpha. “Yes. Yes. Now.”

“Yeah,” he said, and his hands were tight on her hips. He thrust once more, and then his grip went disconcertingly implacable as he held her fast against him.

Her moan went high and thin as his swelling knot stretched her and held her, and then broke entirely as she came again, awash in pleasure. Her coming around him seemed to break something in Adrien, and he wrapped himself completely around her, leaning his body weight against her back and biting down on her shoulder as his hips continued to twitch.

And oh, being blanketed like that, his teeth in her and his knot in her, made the every frantic longing of her hormones go silent. Marinette’s hands unclenched from the coverlet, and she sighed in contentment and satiation. Adrien made almost a purring noise, directly into the skin still between his teeth, and clumsily petted her thigh. His knot still held her tight and would for another half hour or so. It was nice, being so close to him, and able to think because the archaic parts of her brain were satisfied. She hummed and rubbed her face against his pillow. The pillowcase was smooth: some absurdly high thread count. His teeth were still on her shoulder. Not biting now, just resting there. It was good.

She drifted on that feeling for some time, because it was so much better than the mindless ache she’d had before, and she didn’t want to have any of the thoughts lurking beyond her contentment. But of course a fleeting thought of not wanting them summoned them. What was she doing? What did Adrien think of her for going to, as far as he knew, an almost-stranger when she was this vulnerable? What did Chat think? Why - part of her yearned and wondered, even while she was here with Adrien, whom she’d loved for years now. Why hadn’t Chat - alphas weren’t all that common. Or. Well. Twenty percent of the population. So maybe he was, and maybe he wasn’t. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t - even if he was, that didn’t mean he. No matter how much he professed his love, love didn’t have to mean this. And anyway she loved Adrien, Adrien who was here with her now, still in her, absently petting her hip.

Marinette reached for his hand and tangled her fingers with his, then brought his hand up to her lips so she could kiss his palm. He hummed into her shoulder, then carefully took away his teeth, trailing soft closed-mouth kisses along where he had bitten. “How you feeling?” he asked quietly.

“Mm. Good,” Marinette said, and was surprised when her voice came out like honey. She nuzzled into his hand, which smelled like soap and skin. “I think I’ve got a while before it gets bad again.”

“I’m glad,” he said, an odd note in his voice. Then, noticeably brighter: “Do you want to switch positions? Lie down properly?”

She considered for a moment. It was actually really nice, like this. But the last thing she wanted was a muscle cramp from being bent with her ass in the air for too long. “Lie down,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me just . . .” he trailed off, and shuffled his legs until she couldn’t feel them pressed against her. “If you just, like, slide slowly?”

Marinette moved at the prompting of his hands, following his cues almost dreamily. No matter how carefully she moved, it made his knot shift inside her, and the changes in pressure from that were amazing. When she was almost down on the bed, his careful hand low on her belly to support her hips, she felt herself flutter around him. They both moaned.

“Do you want - can I touch you? Make you come around my knot?” He seemed bigger like this, taller, his chest resting against more of her back, his legs between hers so he could stay firmly seated in her without pulling anything for either of them. One of his forearms was near her shoulder, and from the sharp divot it created in the sheet, it seemed that was why he wasn’t resting more of his weight on her back.

The other hand was still under her, a comforting pressure against her body. He slid it further down, a seeming hint of the offer, but the lack of space made the slide a heavy caress, more like a massage. It was instinct and arousal that had her tilting her head in response, baring her neck again for his bite. Or maybe concealing it, with the way her hair was falling. And anyway, she didn’t want his bite. Well, she did. But not the for-real one, not the one that would stay. Not like this, with secrets. “Make me come, Adrien,” she said, as much like the confident heroine of Paris as she could.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. His fingers were awkward at first, navigating the angle. But they slid through her folds, and he seemed more confident, this time, of having found her clit. As he should be, since he could feel her reaction on the inside. It felt like no matter how she hid her face from him, he was learning the secrets of her body.

She was constrained by the position, but she grabbed his ass, his arm, his hair. Everything she could touch as he worked her carefully, seeming to take a quiet joy in finding what made her frantic, what got her close, and then backing off to try other things, circling and pressing from the side and once, very lightly, using his nail. She finally came, shuddering, with one hand fisted in his hair, holding his face to her neck. He licked her, lapping at the tender skin like a cat.

She melted under him, feeling utterly boneless. He slipped free, finally, and then slipped out of the bed. She made an incoherent noise of displeasure.

He ran his palm over her back, soothing. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay. I’m not going far. Just to get you some water, a cloth. Do you want a snack?”

She shook her hard, part denial, more embarrassment at her neediness and wanting to just hide in his pillow.

“Okay, Ladybug. I might bring some back just in case we want something later and I can’t, uh. In case we’re tied. I’ll be as fast as I can. I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

And then he was gone.

She could hear him moving around - could probably see him, too, if she were willing to risk the glance. But the sweat drying on her skin felt so cold, felt like she’d been abandoned forever, and she shuddered again, hating this part of heat, too. But she was a hero. She was Ladybug. She could withstand the lies her hormones were telling her. Chat wouldn’t have brought her to someone who’d abandon her. She could hear him moving around. He’d said he’d be back as fast as he could. He’d said it would be soon. He wouldn’t lie to Ladybug. But he was taking so long. She used up her reserves of heroic willpower and asked, “Adrien?”

“Just a sec,” he said, sounding almost breathless. “I’ll be right there! Sorry. I swear, just a sec, and I’ll be right back.”

His footsteps came closer, and he dropped what sounded like a massive quantity of items beside the bed. She glanced at it through her hair, and there was a mountain of individually wrapped snacks, water bottles, fruit juice, sports drinks, washcloths, a hairbrush, makeup wipes - it looked like he’d grabbed anything he could think of that might help her in any way. “You’re taking such good care of me,” she said.

“Fuck,” he said, sounding like she’d pushed some kind of button. She wished she could see his face. “I’d worship you if you’d let me, Ladybug.” His voice was hoarse.

She wanted to roll over and look at him, see what was written on his face. But that was a bad idea. Even if she could let her legs fall open and let him slide back in, into her where he belonged. Identity. Her face. Right. And anyway - “‘M not just Ladybug,” she said petulantly.

Somewhere behind her, he bent and kissed the back of her knee. “No, you’re the girl behind the mask, too. You care about people, and you think on your feet, and you’re brave.” He kissed the back of her other knee, and she still hadn’t decided if it tickled or not. It didn’t matter, anyway, because he was kissing higher, kissing the backs of her thighs. “The best parts of you aren’t your abilities,” he said, seriousness at odds with the path he was kissing up towards her core. “The girl behind the mask is the one who makes the mask compelling.”

Marinette fought the urge to roll over. She couldn’t. No one was supposed to know. And if anyone, Chat - but no, anyway, Adrien knew her already. He didn’t talk about Marinette the way he talked about Ladybug. But he was sliding his hands up the insides of her thighs, easing them apart, coaxing her up on her knees. With the heel of his palms just above her knees, he stopped again. “Do you want this? Do you want to wait until your heat ramps up again, or do you -”

He was too far down to reach, to reassure. “No, I - I hadn’t thought it would be like this? But you - I’ve. I’ve thought about this.” And Ladybug wasn’t supposed to be a stuttering mess like this, like Marinette, but she was blushing so hard she could feel it, and she was glad for the pillow to bury her face in. “I want you,” she mumbled directly into the pillow. “I came here because Chat - he said. I hadn’t expected heat like this. But if - if the akuma, and things had gone according to plan, I might have dreamed of you.”

“Oh,” he said, and his hands were still.

She waited, then flexed her legs, impatient with whatever musing was distracting him.

He kissed the curve of her ass, then resumed the slow slide of his hands. “You’re absolutely gorgeous like this, I hope you know. There’s this flush to your skin, and you’re in my bed, and your skin is so soft. The way you’re opening for me - God, Ladybug. Can you tilt your hips up more? I just want - I just want to taste you.”

The stream of words coming from his mouth seemed unstoppable as the tide, and just as likely to wash her away. She tilted her hips up, baring herself to him more deliberately. He ghosted his hands along the inner creases of her thighs. He was touching her so carefully, it would be maddening even if she weren’t half-mad already. And then he was using just the tips of his fingers to part her, and he licked into her. The soft wetness of his tongue on her, in her, was different from his fingers, his cock. She arched more towards him, offering herself up. It was awkward like this, still and necessarily facedown, but he settled between her legs and applied himself.

He licked down and around her clit, then up, and delved into her like he was trying to lick every trace of himself away. Marinette clutched the pillow and gave voice to the noises of appreciation crowding her throat.

She didn’t come, but he didn’t stop, not until she could feel her heat rising again, and desperately wanted him filling her again. He pulled away, and nipped, sharp but not painful, at one of her buttocks. She yelped, a high, undignified sound. “Your taste changed,” he said. “You want to go again?”

“I need you, Adrien,” she said. It didn’t hurt, not yet, but her skin felt too tight, overfull of want.

“I think I’ve dreamed of you saying that,” he muttered, sliding up her body. “Do you want it like this, or arched up again, or on your hands and knees, or how? I’d really like hands and knees, if you’d be okay with it. It’d let me touch your breasts, and feel them, and I just want every part of you I can have. Whatever you’ll let me have.”

_ Everything _ , her heart said. But her heart was stupid and didn’t care about her safety, or his. “Hands and knees,” she said, and suited actions to words. Her hair hung down like this, too, helping obscure her face.

He slid his hands up around her waist and forward, and cupped her breasts.

“Oh,” she murmured. “I like that.”

“Good. I want you to like what I do to you. Do you like when I do this?” He moved his fingers so that her nipples were between them - both hands in careful tandem still - and brought them together in a light pinch. Not even really a pinch: his touch was too soft for that, too calculated to avoid any pain or discomfort for her. She could love him for that alone, for the gentleness of him. Reputation had alphas as demanding, as rough and possessive, but Adrien was just . . . taking care of her, in all the best ways.

She wished she could really be his. She wished she could get her mouth on him: in a kiss, on his cock, anything that got her closer, got his taste in her mouth again. “Harder,” she said, and he obliged. She undulated back against him and could feel the hot press of his cock against her. Her mouth watered. “I want to suck your fingers.”

He stilled momentarily, then took a hand from her breast and offered her his fingers - all of them, held loosely. He hadn’t known what she wanted, then, but was still obliging. Marinette took his hand in one of hers, folded down his ring and pinky fingers, and brought the remaining two to her mouth. He tasted of her, at first, from where he’d been touching her. But she sucked, hard, and felt his cock twitch against her, Adrien finally on board with what she wanted to emulate. She had to put her hand back down to support herself, and she felt her eyes drift closed as she sucked. He tasted like salt and skin and Adrien. She licked his fingers, and sucked when they curled down against her tongue. God, she wanted him, and couldn’t tell what of it was lust and what the urgency of heat rising again to claim her. She could tell him she needed him again, but that would mean giving up the fingers in her mouth. She just . . . wanted to be filled, more than this.

“Can I fuck you again?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges.

Marinette nodded frantically, keeping his fingers in her mouth.

He let out an unsteady chuckle. “You are unbelievably sexy, you know.” Adrien punctuated his sentence by sliding into her, sliding all the way home, his balls pressing against her outer lips.

She moaned. He fucked into her slow and steady: long strokes that felt like they would never end. Eventually, he reclaimed his fingers, and used her own saliva to paint circles around her nipples. She shivered at how good it felt, how good everything felt. She felt so hot, like she was on fire, but it was a banked burn, held manageable by the way he was thrusting into her. Well, manageable until it wasn’t: she hit her flashpoint and was burning, spinning away into stars.

She wanted to bite him, mark him as hers the way he’d almost marked her as his. She was most of the way into turning her head - to tell him, to take a bite out of him without warning, she didn’t know which - when he stopped her.

“Don’t look,” he murmured into her ear. He slid his hand up from her breast, over her throat to cup her jaw and hold her facing away from him. “You don’t want me to know, remember?”

Marinette whined high in her throat, a helpless, needy sound that wasn’t very much like Ladybug at all. Adrien rested his head against the nape of her neck, his forehead slick with sweat. She fisted her hand in his hair, holding him close to her even if she couldn’t hold him with her teeth. She arched her neck, getting closer to him and pressing her neck more firmly into his hand. His hands on her were amazing. She’d never have guessed how much she would like being held like this. Her dreams had mostly been about being face to face with the one taking her - and yes, that was Adrien often enough, but she hadn’t had any kind of frame of reference for the sensory detail.

“Oh, God, Ladybug,” he said helplessly, his breath and voice both hot on her skin. Then his knot was growing in her, faster than it had last time, and she shuddered through an orgasm with him even as he held her firmly in place. As she drifted on the contentment of being so filled, knowledge crept in uninvited. Adrien was Chat Noir.

His hand was so strong on her, holding throat and jaw and trying so clearly to be soft, to be careful, to only take care of her. And that was a clue, too, wasn’t it? Who else could Chat have trusted? And fencing was precision and speed, not raw strength, so Adrien wouldn’t even necessarily have noticed how he had to pull his strength with other people. Nino tried, all of them tried, with casual touches and fistbumps, but Marinette had been noogied by Alya before Rena Rouge, had thrown Manon in the air and spun her around, before and after. Marinette knew how strong she was in relation to other people, and had internalized it so it shone through even the haze of sex and heat and delusional hope. If Adrien was just Adrien, he wouldn’t have been able to hold her.

Oh, her perfect, perfect partner. She tried to relax and then clench down, to stroke him from the inside. He groaned quietly and nuzzled her neck. A burst of affection rolled over her, and she bared her neck to him so he could smell it on her. He tucked his face closer, burying his nose in her skin, and let out a low, purring hum of satisfaction. It rumbled through her, and this was the best possible way to spend her heat, held tight to her alpha. He ran his hands over her breasts again, cupping and squeezing and exploring them.

It felt fantastic, but her arms were trembling. “Can we lay on our sides?”

“Of course, Ladybug,” he said, then hesitated. “What would be the best way?”

Ugh, right, logistics. Terrible. She didn’t want to deal with logistics for at least another four hours. But she could do this. Marinette tried to marshall her brain into something like working order. Terrible. “Can’t you just move us? You’re strong enough, Chat.”

He froze, and squeaked, like a mouse who’d just spotted his namesake.

She ran her fingers through his hair, almost like the pets she sometimes gave him, but worlds different because he was in her, he was _ Adrien _ , and she couldn’t even look at his face. “I didn’t mean to figure it out. But the way you touch me . . .”

Adrien let out a sound between a groan and a laugh. “Like you’re everything I ever wanted?”

Seeming to give up on denial, he wrapped his arms around her securely, anchoring her hips and ribs, and then just rolled until they were spooned up on their sides. Despite his care, landing jostled his knot enough that they both groaned. The pull at her entrance hurt, but the pressure it put inside her felt almost overwhelmingly good. She ground back against him. He matched her with a thrust. They couldn’t move much with him already tightly knotted in her, but it was enough, it was perfect, he filled her so full. Words to that effect were spilling out of her mouth, and in response he bit down hard on her neck.

They rocked, just enough, every thrust pressing her against his teeth, pressing him against the front of her pussy. The twin sensations built, sharp and heavy and wrapped in intoxicating heat. He was using the arm slung low over her body to help push her into him, the other arm wrapped up over her sternum to hold her close. She grabbed that arm with both hands, needing an anchor in the whirl of sensation. She wanted to bite, to kiss, to fill her mouth with him, but she couldn’t, and so frantic noises just kept spilling out of her until she came with a scream.

Adrien slowed, then, and eventually stopped, just filling her and keeping her pressed close against him. He stopped biting down, too, but kept his teeth there, just resting against her skin. She’d probably have a bruise there from his repeated bites, and she shivered at the thought of being marked as his for more than just one day. She wanted that. She wanted it with a fierceness that probably meant it was mostly her heat, no matter how lucid she felt in the moment. But he was hers. Adrien she’d chased after, Chat she’d chased monsters with. He was one person, and he was hers.

“How’d you know?” he murmured directly into her skin.

She ran her fingers idly over the back of his arm. There hadn’t been nearly enough opportunity to touch him. “You trusted you, so much. I hadn’t expected that, but I wasn’t really thinking much about it. But also - you’re so strong.”

He huffed a laugh into her skin, and the hot breath ghosting over her skin was a delight. Still: she swatted the back of his hand lightly. “That’s not a heat-induced swoon. You have to have noticed that we’re stronger than ordinary people, even out of the suits.”

Adrien finally stopped nuzzling her. “Huh. I thought working out more had just paid off.”

“A  _ lot  _ stronger, _ minou _ ,” she said, amusement lacing her tone.

He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug she could feel. “I didn’t know. And I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I know you don’t think we should know each other’s identities.”

“It’s my own fault for having, like, thoughts.” She cuddled into him, wanting to eliminate any space between them. Really, wanting to eliminate everything between them. This was perfect, and everything should always be like this, him anchored in her because he belonged there. Actually, no, hold that. “I need to reach for a water. Do you need anything?”

“Oh. I could also use a water, please.” He loosed his hold on her reluctantly, and she grabbed water from the stockpile by the bed.

They both drank, and Marinette hadn’t realized how much she’d needed it. Heat made every need but the need for touch seem irrelevant and far removed.

Adrien - Chat -  _ Adrien _ chugged his water, then cuddled up behind her again, scooping her close with both arms around her waist. “What now?”

“Well, now that I know your identity, we could make it fair and you could fuck me face to face next time?”

His arms tightened on her. “You’re going to kill me with the things that come out of your mouth, Ladybug. But just because you figured it out doesn’t mean that I should know. No, listen - Ladybug, your safety matters. And I can wait. God, I can wait for you forever, but i want you to not be in the middle of your heat when you decide -”

She interrupted him, “But it’s  _ fair _ .”

Adrien kissed the top of her shoulder. “I love you. I love everything about you, especially your fairness. But, please - I.” His voice dropped quieter, and one of his hands found hers. “I don’t want you to have regrets about spending your heat with me.”

“Oh,  _ minou _ ,” she said, helplessly in love with him. She wrapped her arms atop his. “You’re such a good alpha for me. You’re taking care of me so well, with the supplies and filling me so nicely and making me come on your knot so many times. You put your teeth in me like I’m yours, and it makes me feel so protected and safe and _ taken _ , and it’s just exactly what I needed to make heat _ hot _ and not a fevered mess. I couldn’t regret spending heat with you even if I didn’t love you and trust you to the moon and back.”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and held very still for a few moments, nothing moving but his breath across her skin. Finally, it gusted out in a sigh, and he rearranged his arms, tangling them more with hers. Not holding her in place, precisely, but also not  _ not  _ holding her still. “I love you so much, and you know just the things to say to make me lose my mind. I don’t want to imply that you don’t know your own, just because you’re in heat. But - can we wait? A bit? Just . . . just in case.”

Marinette sighed, too, in part because she knew she hadn’t been playing fair. That wasn’t fair to him, to this boy who was her heart. “Okay.”

He ran his hands over her softly, more soothing than seductive. She freed a hand and cupped his face where he was still pressed in close to her shoulder. Her brain still didn’t want to work, muddled with heat and satisfaction, but it was worth it to try to get her thoughts in order. The other ache in her, the one that said the physical connection wasn’t enough, needed her to think. She melted into him, let him be the one to support her whole body in a position that kept them comfortable. So Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste. She loved him. Could she still treat him the same, if she needed to? Maybe. Not well. She’d try. So that was one argument. Though did she put him in danger by knowing? She wanted to say no, because she loved him and didn’t want to think she’d ever put him in danger. But that timeline she’d seen in the Burrow had been so terrible. Terrible things happened, sometimes, and knowledge was always a danger. But she couldn’t unknow. She didn’t  _ want  _ to unknow. It made her happy to have two of her favorite people be only one person. And if they both knew, then it was equally dangerous, but they could watch each other’s backs, too. If they both knew, she wouldn’t have to worry about letting things slip. They could just . . . be happy, and know each other inside and out.

The being happy was probably key: finding out by chance would be much worse than finding out on purpose here in his room where they had already shut out the rest of the world. But that meant that him being happy and trusting that she wasn’t saying things just because of her heat was also important. Which meant waiting. Waiting was so hard. Marinette sighed.

Adrien’s murmur was quiet in her ear. “All good, bugaboo?”

“I decided you were right, and I was being unfair.” It came out a pout, more than she meant it to. Everything was still a little less under control than she thought it would be. Heat was so weird. He maybe had a point about that.

He kissed her shoulder and the side of her neck. “I’m sorry for being right, Ladybug,” he said with a false solemnity that couldn’t hide the laugh running through him.

She slapped his hip. “Stop laughing at me! You’re the worst. I don’t know why I love you.”

His laughter bubbled up and burst free, shaking both of them. “I love you, too, Ladybug.” His scent rose up around her, too, reinforcing his words. Alpha arousal and Adrien and affection, a potent cocktail she could roll around in forever.

A thought bubbled up, sudden and horrifying, especially in the light of her newly made decision to wait. “Wait - can you smell me?”

Adrien’s arms tightened on her and he went stiff behind her, head leaving her neck as he started to look around for whatever threat had set her off. The tension had fully coiled his body, it seemed, before the actual content of her words sank in. “Oh - I. No. I can smell omega pheromones, mostly, and sex. Omega-in-heat is kind of one of the most overwhelming smells in the universe. Though I guess not for omegas, right?”

“No. It’s a lot, but - okay, never mind that. When my heat’s worn off enough that I can go home, it’s going to be worn off enough that you can smell me.”

He relaxed, not seeming to understand the magnitude of the problem. “Yeah, I kind of thought of that? I know it’s not ideal, but I could peppermint-bomb my room, and if I do it fast enough it’ll probably just mean that if I ever run into you as a civilian I’ll start sneezing, but the scent won’t linger and I still won’t know.”

“Minou, making your bedroom an uninhabitable wasteland for at least a day is not an ideal solution,” she said, exasperated.

He shrugged behind her, and it moved him in her where his knot was softening. Marinette felt her eyes flutter shut a moment before she dragged herself back on track. “Anyway - I. Um. It’s not a matter of running into me in future.”

A beat. “We’ve met?”

“Um.”

“We know each other,” he said, sounding fascinated. “Oh, this is going to kill me, Ladybug. Do I know you from work? Are you a model, too? Wait, no, don’t tell me, I still shouldn’t know even bits, not like this. What was -” Some of the enthusiasm drained from his voice. “What was your plan?”

Unspoken: had you planned to tell Adrien even if he wasn’t Chat?

Marinette heard his unspoken words loud and clear. They pierced her to the heart, and she turned her head into the pillow. “I didn’t have one,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking at all. I knew you as Chat had told me it would be okay, and that was - it was as close to a plan as I could get, trusting you.”

He curled around her, stroking her arms and sides and stomach, soothing. Comforting. It almost made up for the sense of loss that accompanied him slipping out of her. “It’s okay, Ladybug. I’m glad you trusted me, even though it gives us some complications. I’m so glad. And not just for selfish reasons, though I - fuck, you’re more than I could have dreamed.” A hand slipped up to cup her breast, gentle, neither demanding nor instigating, but appreciating. “I’m glad you weren’t alone, that you didn’t have to be unhappy, for however long it would have been.”

His touch was - it wasn’t just heat, or ordinary arousal. His touch felt right in a way she could only attribute to his being her partner, her friend, her counterpart. Nothing could be all that wrong, when he was touching her. She carded her hand through his hair.

“Hmm. Maybe - Tikki could transform me? And take as much of my smell as possible? And then you could . . . take me to a roof somewhere, and wait with me?” She didn’t want to leave this bed, didn’t want to leave his arms, not for anything.

He moved away from her, flopped back on the bed behind her, and she kind of wanted to turn to look, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it. “Ugh, why is everything so complicated?”

She laughed. “We’re just lucky, I guess.”

Adrien sighed. “Your plan sounds solid, I think? I’m just having a really hard time with it because I’ve been with you in your heat long enough that I’m like 90% hormones and they’re all saying I should just keep you here in my bed, knotted as much as possible, and leaving this room at all feels like a super terrible idea. But I don’t know if there’s any, like, thoughts, there, that would back up any of those feelings.”

Marinette lay there, holding fast to the arm still around her. It could be simple. It could all be so simple. But would it be best? Would they both still be happy? Both still be safe? Ugh. She just wanted this one still point in the whirl of everything. “We should do it,” she said decisively.

“Okay, Ladybug.” Then, much louder, “Plagg?”

They waited a few moments. Marinette cleared her throat. “We haven’t been, uh, super quiet? They might both be out of earshot.”

Adrien rolled back onto his side and kissed her shoulder. “Will you be okay if I go look for them for a few minutes?”

Marinette tried to take internal stock. It was hard, though. “I’m not sure? Probably? Maybe try letting go of me for a bit and we’ll see.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding suddenly reluctant. “Right. That makes sense.” He moved away from her, and she felt suddenly and terribly bereft and cold. But that meant she wasn’t overwhelmed with heat, which was what they needed for this.

“Right. I’ll be okay. Go find them?” Her voice came out small, and not as certain as she wanted. She buried her face more firmly in the bed, to hide it when he got up. Even if she’d be showing it soon, it was important not to mess this up.

He kissed her shoulder, and then he was gone. At first it was just normal waiting, boring but bearable, but then the chill left Marinette, and she was starting to be uncomfortable again. Not as bad as before, but oh she wanted him again. She could get through this. She’d gotten through heats before, technically.

Adrien came back as Chat Noir, and Marinette felt swamped with affection at seeing this other familiar face. Tikki was riding on his shoulder, but flew to Marinette, and gently smoothed the hair concealing her face. “You feeling better?”

“Mmm. I’m gonna tell him who I am, Tikki. But he wants me to have a clear head. I want me to have a clear head. So - in case I change my mind, not that it’ll happen, but when I transform, can you take all my smell out of the room?”

“I’ll do my best, Ladybug. I believe in you to make the right choice.”

She loved Tikki so much, too. “Okay. Thank you. And - please don’t suppress it this time? If you can? I know it’ll be weird, but we need it to come to an end, which means going through it.”

Tikki patted her cheek again. “I can do that. If you’re planning to de-transform somewhere else, though, you might want to put your clothes on.”

Marinette blinked, then blushed hard, embarrassment triumphing over heat in its intensity. “Right! Yes. Clothes.”

“Oh my God,” Chat said, sounding mortified. “I forgot.”

Marinette giggled helplessly. “Why don’t you go fix that, then, while I get dressed? And we should both maybe hurry.”

“Right,” Chat said, businesslike again, and headed across the room to his ridiculous closet. “I’ll get dressed in here. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

Since his back was already safely turned, Marinette scrambled upright and tried to find her clothes. Bra - check, though it fit weird over breasts that were heavy with arousal. Shirt. She had one sock half on, and the other nowhere in sight. Okay, not important. Panties - soaked. She wasn’t putting them on. So commando into her pants it was, panties shoved awkwardly in the too-small pocket she hadn’t bothered to enlarge since she almost always had her purse. That was about as good as it was going to get. “Tikki - spots on.”

Transformed, she said, “Okay, Chat, let’s go.”

He emerged from his closet, then faltered when he saw her. “That is not your usual costume.”

She looked down, and no, it wasn’t. The top and bottom were separate, and the spots on her hips were buttons in this version. “Oh. Um. I asked if Tikki could not suppress the last of my heat, and I guess this was her. Uh. Answer.”

“Oh,” he said, and stared at her some more. But he wasn’t touching her, and they weren’t leaving.

“We should go,” Marinette said, and that jarred him out of inaction.

“Right. Are you feeling good with your yoyo, or do you want to go with me?”

She tried to take stock of herself, but introspection mostly meant she was acutely aware of how wet she was, how empty, how warm . . . Marinette swallowed hard. “With you, please.”

They went out the window together, and out into the city. The first long unbroken line of roofs they came to, he set her down but didn’t quite let go. “Want to run together?”

Her legs felt lax and noodly, not wanting to support her. But she wanted to run with him. She could make her legs work for that. They ran in tandem across the rooftops, in sync the way they could only be on solid ground. Delirious with the night, Ladybug grabbed his hand and dragged him off-course to push him into a chimney and kiss him. He went easily where she put him, looping his arms around her waist and bending his head to meet her.

She drew his lower lip into her mouth and nibbled at it. She loved his mouth. Oh, she loved every part of him. “Can I blow you?”

His head slammed back against the chimney, cat pupils blown wide and round. “Fuck, Ladybug. You can’t just say stuff like that. Please.”

Ladybug kissed the side of his neck and continued her way down, sliding easily to her knees. It felt good to be on her knees in front of him, his hands on her shoulders, her face close to where she could smell him faintly even through the magic of the suit. She nuzzled into the line of his growing erection and reached for his belt. Oh - the zipper was still higher. She should have remembered that. Oh, well - he was fumbling for the zipper himself, baring the lean pale line of his chest. Working together, they got him naked enough that his cock was free, and she nuzzled into it. He smelled more like damp and cotton than the straight sex she’d expected; he must have made some cursory attempt at cleaning up before transforming. He still smelled like sex and both of them. Tasted of it, too, when she licked curiously at him. At the soft noise that escaped him, she drew her tongue down the length of him more purposefully, then took him in her mouth.

He was heavy and heady on her tongue. It was overwhelming, and she looked up for his face so she could have an anchor and not get utterly lost in taste and smell and feel. He was watching her with something like awe, eyes glittering in the dim glow of the city lights. He put one hand on the side of her face, cupping her cheek. She sucked, hollowing her cheek, and his thumb moved with how the topography of her shape had changed. Chat’s gaze had taken on an almost dazed fascination. His thumb slid to the side of her mouth, where he could feel how her mouth changed as she slid it along the length of him. It turned out that watching his face didn’t keep her from getting lost, just meant she got lost with him as well as in him, in the sensations and his reactions.

Unexpectedly, he urged her away from him, and she looked up at him as she sat back on her heels, wondering what she’d done wrong.

“That was too good, Ladybug. I - your heat’s not over, and I. I don’t want to let you down,” he said awkwardly.

Oh. She leaned in and kissed the thin skin just above where his pubic hair started. “Okay. Though if you still want me after this, I want to suck you off at some point.”

He held his hands out to her to help her up, but she was Ladybug, dammit, so she rested her hands feather-light on his and rose to her feet while rubbing every inch of her body against his. He kissed her ravenously, chasing the taste of himself through her mouth. She laced her fingers with his and kissed him back, tongue sliding the length of his.

There was a delicious tension in her spine: desire drawing tight. When they finally broke for air, she was dizzy with it, and she panted into the close space between them. “Do you think you could fuck me against the wall?”

“Anything,” he said instantly, voice a little hoarse. Then he blinked, flexed his fingers in hers, and said, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

They moved as a team so that he was pressing her against the wall instead of her pressing him, and then they had to deal with the practicalities of unbuttoning the bottom of her suit and drawing it down her legs and off, leaving her standing barefoot and half naked on the roof. Chat pushed his suit off more, freeing his hands completely and letting it sag around his hips.

Ladybug hopped up into his arms as soon as they were free, and he caught her smoothly, one hand cupping her bare ass as she crossed her ankles behind his back. She liked how they moved together now, how she could treat him like her partner she trusted to know her moves and move with her even now that he was Adrien and alpha and about to fuck her again.

He kissed her again, sweet this time. He was so sweet, her Adrien. But she wanted to come, wanted the rest of her heat done with, so that he could be  _ her  _ Adrien. Marinette skimmed her mouth over his cheek to nip his earlobe, then whispered, “Now, please.”

He stroked his fingers over her, checking if she was ready for him, even though she’d been ridiculously wet for him for hours. Then he pressed her to the wall, careful and calculated to give him just enough space and leverage to slide into her. And this was the first time they’d fucked face to face, and everything felt different. She gasped at it and kissed his neck. He thrust into her, pressing tight, and everything was so beautiful that she bit down. The skin where his neck joined his shoulder was sweat-salty and smooth and felt like it had been made to fit between her teeth. She didn’t let herself bite down for real, not in any kind of permanent way, but he fucked her harder with her teeth in him, which was no kind of incentive to stop.

As his knot started to grow, he bit, too, teasing nips along the tendon of her neck. She came with a sudden violence that surprised her, then trembled through the aftershocks as he found his own completion and filled her and pressed her tight against the wall. She kissed him, and could be lazy about it this time, exploring his lips softly and slowly. He reciprocated in kind, and they kissed lazily as the sweat cooled on their bodies.

Then the cool turned to cold, and as he softened enough to slip out of her a brutal muscle spasm seized her thigh. Marinette couldn’t stop the punched-out noise that escaped her: her heat was officially over, and with it the artificial lassitude that let her keep going no matter how well she was keeping up with actually fueling her body. Marinette sort of fell sideways away from Chat as she cradled her leg, and he hovered, concerned. “Ladybug? What’s wrong?”

“Charley horse,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, shit,” he said, then leaned next to her. “Okay, I know it hurts, but try to stretch out.” He put a firm palm down on her thigh and smoothed it up towards her hip, which didn’t exactly help, but wasn’t hurting, either.

Marinette stretched out on the roof, trying not to think about pigeons, and tried to just ride out the muscle spasm. It had to stop eventually.

Chat moved so he could smooth his palm down from her hip towards her knee, pressing hard with the ball of his hand. Surprisingly, that helped. A couple passes, and the charley horse had stopped. 

Marinette opened her eyes. “What a way to know that heat is definitely over.”

He laughed, half-hearted and unsteady. “I feel like there are probably better ways it could have gone, yeah. Let me get your pants.” He rose and retrieved the bottom half of her suit, but didn’t quite look at her as he passed them over.

She studied his beloved, familiar face as she put them on. Something was off. “Are you okay?”

His eyes flew to her face in surprise. “Of course! I - this was a dream come true, bugaboo. Don’t ever doubt that. Though I should have made sure you had more water, I guess. I just. Um.”

He didn’t seem like he wanted to finish the thought. That in itself helped, though. “Does that mean I can tell you who I am, now?”

“Only if you still want to,” he said instantly. “Your safety is important, more important than any kind of idea of fairness.”

“I love you,” she said. “Every part of you that I know. And I want you to know how the parts of me fit together, to. To see if you can love every part of me, too.”

“The first time I met you I knew I’d love the girl wearing the mask, not just the mask,” he said steadily. 

There was a sudden tightness in her throat, and she had to look away, make sure they weren’t somehow being observed up here in their rooftop domain. “Tikki, spots off.”

The world washed its familiar red for a moment, and as the dazzling light faded, Marinette made herself look at Adrien. He looked thunderstruck, but not upset. “Marinette,” he said. Then he blinked, and laughed joyfully. “I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection! Of course you’re you. You’re the most amazing thing to ever happen to Paris.”

As hope and happiness unfurled in her stomach, Adrien took her hand and kissed her palm.


End file.
